Composure
by RomioneAlways51
Summary: After the whole Nogitsune drama, Stiles' health was finally on the mend, but there was still something he couldn't stop fixating on... Sciles, set after season 3B. Don't like, don't read


**A/N: Hey guys, so I know it's been forever since I updated any of my stories, and I'm really sorry about that, but a lot has been going on, and I have a crap ton of stories on the go right now, so I mm gonna try and finish the ones I have first, and then put some more out, if that's OK. This also isn't a BTR or Blue Water High story either, I've been kind of obsessed with Teen Wolf, so this is a a story based on that. It's a Sciles story, because I just love them, and there's not that many stories about the ship. So enjoy!**

It had been 2 weeks since the pack had taken down the Nogitsune, and things were finally heading back to normal... almost; everyone was coming to terms with what had happened and was moving on, except Stiles. This was understandable, the voice inside Scott's head said, when he thought about it; his best friend had been through a lot, and it wasn't as if it was something you could just get over with a good nights sleep - which Stiles was getting none of lately - even so, Scott was worried...

It felt like weeks had gone by since they'd talked, and whenever they did, it was always awkward and quick, nothing more that needed to be said. In fact, Stiles Stilinski, the most talkative and hyperactive person Scott knew, hadn't spoken to him, or to anyone really, since the Nogitsune.

But it wasn't just the silence that had Scott worried, Stiles had been spending all his time in his room, and had been skipping school; but the worst of it was that Stiles had obviously convinced his dad that he didn't want to see Scott, and the Sheriff had made a habit of sending him away every time he tried to come by. That hadn't deterred Scott, of course; his best friend was in trouble, he needed him, even if Stiles wanted to convince himself otherwise, and it was one night after school, nearing on three weeks after the incident, that Scott decided he needed to prove it.

The tan boy stood outside the front door of Stiles' house, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other and clutching a folder tightly in one arm as he used the other hand to knock on the door.

"Hi Scott," Sheriff Stilinski said tiredly, appearing at the door moments later.

"Hi," Scott returned awkwardly "I, uh, I have Stiles' homework," Scott had been bringing the work home for Stiles ever since the incident, and even though he knew his best friend was in no position to keep up with his studies, it had become a habit, and Scott found himself looking forward to it; the werewolf boy took in a breath, inhaling the decent of leftover Chinese food that the sheriff was probably going to take up to Stiles once Scott had left, mingling with the scent of coffee, and something that was just inherently Stiles, and Scott let his spirits rise at the thought of Stiles finally leaving his room and coming downstairs.

"Thanks Scott," Stiles' dad muttered, reaching to take the folder from him, but the teenager pulled away slightly.

"I really need to explain it to him," he said, avoiding the sheriff's gaze and praying that the older man didn't see straight through him.

"Stiles is a smart kid, I'm sure he'll figure it out," he said, his cold gaze resting on Scott, and the teenager couldn't escape the feeling that he was being interrogated. He was determined not to squirm, however, and held his resolve,

"We're partners," Scott blurted, despite his determination to hold his own. When Stiles' dad raised an eyebrow, the teenager's words tumbled out "on the assignment! I, uh, I wanted Stiles to help me with it, and I need to show him what we have to do,"

"You picked Stiles as your partner?" Sheriff Stilinski said suspiciously "Stiles? Even though he hasn't attended school in two weeks and won't leave his room or talk to anyone, you picked him?"

"Yeah," Scott's patience was wearing thin "look, this assignment is due by the end of the week, and he just needs to do this one little thing, please can I go?"

"You can," the sheriff said, and Scott let out a breath, trying to step into the house, only to have the older man stop him "if you tell me why you're really here," Scott looked up reluctantly, expecting to meet the cold gaze of Sheriff Stilinski, but was shocked to find Stiles' dad gazing down at him, concern in his green eyes that Scott had expected to pierce through him, and the teenager was taken aback as he muttered awkwardly,

"I, uh, I'm worried about Stiles," Scott rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, the churning in his gut resembling the feeling he used to get when Allison's dad caught him trying to leave their house late at night, but somewhere in there was a different feeling, a sense of urgency, almost desperation to get upstairs and see Stiles.

"I know," Stiles' dad said gently "me too," and with that he stepped aside "go, I think seeing you might be exactly what he needs right now," Scott's heart skipped a beat and he stopped in his tracks,

"W-what?"

"He's not talking," the sheriff said "but if he's going to talk to anyone, it'll be you, Scott," the older man said, turning his almost pleading eyes on him.

"I'll do my best," the teenager said, the pride that surged in his chest at the sheriff's words replaced by a determination to make things right, to save his best friend.

Scott's heart was beating rapidly in his chest as he raised his hand to knock on Stiles' bedroom door, the action foreign to him, even as he did it; Scott and Stiles barely ever knocked on each other's doors, there was no privacy or secrets needed between them, but today, Scott thought, sighing, today was an exception. Upon receiving no answer, however, the tan boy let himself in, shutting the door gently behind him to find Stiles sitting on the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands; the sight broke Scott's heart, but not nearly as much as the way Stiles' voice shook when he spoke,

"Dad, I said I'm fine, please just leave me alone,"

"You're not fine," Stiles looked up at Scott's voice, his eyes wide, and Scott tried not to stare at the dark circles underneath them as he fretted that his best friend probably hadn't slept properly in at least a month.

"S-Scott," it came out as more of a question, and Stiles' voice cracked as he said it.

"Hey-" Scott said gently.

"Go away," the other boy said, and Scott felt an ache in his heart at the raw sound of his unused voice.

"Stiles-"

"Scott, I said go away!" Stiles said, a little louder "I can't- you can't be here,"

"Why?" Scott was becoming defensive now "Why can't I see my best friend, who is scaring the crap out of me because he hasn't left the house in two weeks!" Stiles flinched at the harshness in Scott's tone, and the tan boy felt a surge of guilt as he sat down on his knees in front of Stiles "I'm sorry" he said gently "I shouldn't have blown up like that, it's just- you're scaring me, Stiles," the other boy let out an inaudible mutter then, and even Scott's supersonic werewolf hearing couldn't work out what he'd said "What?" he blinked, and Stiles took a shaky breath,

"I nearly killed you," he said, a touch louder.

"Stiles-"

"When I was the Nogitsune, I stabbed you, you could've died," his voice was raw and scared, and Scott looked down to see that his hands were shaking. Without thinking, he reached out to take them in his own, speaking directly to Stiles, whose head was bent,

"It's not your fault" Scott said gently.

"Yes it is!" Stiles' head shot up, and Scott could see the tears glistening in his eyes "I remember putting that knife into you, I remember twisting it, I can even remember how much I enjoyed the pain you were in! I had it in my power to kill you, Scott, and if that happened I- I couldn't stand it!" his shoulders were shaking now, and he bent his head again, hiding his tears.

"Hey, listen to me," Stiles reluctantly looked up into Scott's eyes, bearing into his own "none of this was your fault, OK? The Nogitsune took you, it was in control of your body, IT was the one who tried to kill me, not you," he found himself stroking the other boy's hand with the pad of his thumb, and he saw Stiles watch him do so.

"But I remember- Scott, if you had died, I- I can't- you- Scott, I-" Stiles' breathing was becoming rapid and short now, and Scott could hear the other boy's heartbeat racing, as well as his own; panic attack.

"Stiles, look at me," Scott said soothingly as he pulled Stiles gently off the bed sit on the floor opposite him, his brain running on autopilot as he systematically went through everything his mother taught him to do when Stiles had an attack, everything he'd had to do so many times before. "It's OK, Stiles, just breathe, focus on your breathing, OK?" he saw Stiles' eyes flick back and forth as he continued to breathe heavily "Hey, look at me, Stiles, come on buddy, focus on me. We're gonna count fingers, OK?" he made to pull his hand away, but suddenly felt Stiles' cold one gripping onto his own, almost for dear life, his eyes wide with fear "OK, we won't count fingers then, what if we just count out loud, lets try; one... two..." Scott gave a small pause, hoping Stiles would chime in, but the panic began to rise as Stiles continued to stare at him, wide eyed as he tried unsuccessfully to slow down his breathing. "It's OK," Scott made sure to keep his voice calm as he spoke; he couldn't let Stiles know how terrified he was "it's OK, Stiles, I'll think of something-" suddenly, it came to him, and before he could think twice, Scott was leaning in to capture Stiles in a kiss, his stomach churning in a way he had only felt once before; his first kiss with Allison.

"What-" Stiles said breathlessly as the two broke apart.

"I had to calm your breathing," Scott said, blushing.

"Thanks," came the breathless reply, and Scott rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly,

"It was nothing,"

"Scott-" Stiles murmured "I-"

"I, uh, I had to stop your panic attack, it's-" but he was cut off, however, when he felt Stiles' lips pressing desperately against his own and, before he could stop himself, he pulled his hands gently from Stiles' to wrap his arms around his neck as the other boy pulled him closer. Soon, they broke apart, and Scott found himself gazing into Stiles' eyes, finding that they were glistening with more tears,

"I-I could've lost you Scott!" Stiles let out, answering the questioning and concerned look on his best friend's face "You could've died, and I could've been the one that did it!"

"Hey," Scott said gently, reaching up to wipe the tears from Stiles' eyes, only to have his hand be brushed away.

"If I had been stronger, maybe I could've fought it, if I wasn't so weak-"

"Stop it," Scott said sternly "you're not weak, you're one of the strongest and bravest people I know,"

"But I'm not strong like you or Derek or Issac, I'm not a hero,"

"You saved my life at that motel," Scott told him "you risked your life for mine, and you were willing to sacrifice yourself because of me, that makes you a hero in my book,"

"Scott-"

"Stiles, listen to me, even if you were stronger, there's no way you, or anyone could've broken the Nogitsune's hold on you, it was too powerful,"

"Derek or Issac could've, even you could've," Stiles said in a low voice.

"Hey, I don't care if you're not strong like werewolves are, I know how strong you are; you've had to deal with so much over the last year, and you never faltered once; you risked your life for me at that motel, and that makes you my hero,"

"I also could've killed you-"

"I don't care," Scott interrupted, wiping a tear from Stiles' cheek "that wasn't you, the you I know would never do anything like that; the you I know is my brother who's stuck by me through everything, and who always will. And that's why I love you,"

"Y-you love me?" Stiles asked in a small voice.

"Yes," Scott allowed a small smile to cross his lips at the disbelief on Stiles' face "always," he said gently, pulling the other boy into a tight embrace, Stiles resting his cheek against Scott's chest.

"Scott?"

"Yeah,"

"I love you too," Stiles said in a small voice as Scott stroked his hair gently "always," the tan boy lay his head on top of Stiles', the other boy's spiked hair tickling his cheek pleasantly as Stiles wrapped his arms around Scott's waist and played with the fabric of his shirt, the two of them blissfully unaware of the door opening behind them as Sheriff Stilinski watched them silently, relief washing over his face and an immense, wordless gratitude for the boy who saved his son.

**A/N: So what did you guys think? This is my first Teen Wolf story, and I've got another one in progress, so if you guys like this, do let me know, and I'll post the new one when I can. I promise I'll get back to my BTR stories too, but for now I have a Glee story that's keeping me occupied, so if any of you are into Glee, let me know and I'll post it - I'll probably post it anyway, because I'm really proud of it, but yeah, see you guys soon, OK? I'll post again when I get the chance, but if you wouldn't mind giving this a review, that would be amazing :)**


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